Ginny Weasley and the Seventh Year
by conniehdez
Summary: Ginny's sixth year was one she would rather forget. But, as life goes on, Ginny learns how to grow stronger, fall in love, pass her NEWTs and succeed in life. HG, RHr
1. Prologue

**Ginny Weasley and the Seventh Year.**

**Summary: Ginny's sixth year was one she would rather forget. But, as life goes on, Ginny learns how to grow stronger, fall in love, pass her NEWTs and succeed in life.**

**Disclaimer: Most certainly not mine. I wish.**

**A/N: i'm back! i figured i might try for something that's not a one-shot...school holidays are almost over so don't be too surprised when i don't update regularly, i have to prepare for exams this term :( i'll be out of town til saturday, then out sunday morning, then back to school on monday. exams are early november, so dont expect anything until...maybe...middle of november.**

**enjoy :)**

**Prologue: The Start of the Beginning**

It might have been the end, but everyone knew it was the start of the beginning. The Dark Lord, Lord Voldemort, Tom Riddle, was finally dead. And they were free from the darkness that they had been trapped by. They embraced the light and the end of a dark reign.

Others weren't as joyous, and had good reason.

Their freedom did not come without sacrifice. Each family had lost a dear family member, if they family had not been entirely eliminated before the Battle of Hogwarts. Tears were being shed before the joy could settle in, and there was much to be done before they could move past the denial, the anger, the bargaining and the depression into acceptance.

The Great Hall was a bigger mess that it had ever been. There were huge holes in the walls that had once seemed so indestructible, with blood smeared over them in a way that had not been seen for 5 years. The giant tables that normally accommodated the students of Hogwarts were groaning once again under the pressure of students and travellers. The room was full of bodies: dying ones, injured ones, grieving ones, helping ones, dead ones. Death was a constant in this room; one had to only take a step inside the Hall to see the death and injury that marked this school.

Ginny watched as he talked to Luna for a few seconds before he disappeared. The battle had certainly not addled her brains – she knew that he had disappeared under his Invisibility Cloak, and she knew exactly where he'd go and who he'd take with him.

She did not feel offended as she watched Ron and Hermione stand up and leave the Great Hall. The exhaustion was too much for her, and she sighed. She looked at the table next to hers, where a few admirers surrounded Neville with the sword of Gryffindor. She was not surprised when Hannah Abbott joined him, nor was she surprised as they dove into a deep conversation once the crowd had dispersed.

She looked at her mother, whose shoulder she was leaning on. She knew her mother had a formidable temper – she herself had been on the receiving end of many lectures and arguments. She knew that her mother loved all of her children – even Percy, whose true colour finally came through in time for the battle. In spite of this knowledge, however, she had to admit to herself she had been a little surprised when her mum had come to Hermione's, Luna's and her own rescue. She could not be more grateful that her mum loved her the way she did.

"Mum?" she said softly. Molly Weasley turned to face her youngest and only daughter, who had suffered much during the year.

"Yes, dear?" she asked.

She wrapped her arms around her mother, who patted her head. "Thanks."

Molly's eyes glistened with unshed tears. "It's alright, dear. We'll be alright."

It was at this point that Ginny looked directly across from her at her brothers. Or rather, the ones who were sitting down in front of her.

George and Percy were, in a rare show of brotherly bonding, were sitting quietly, Percy's hand around George's shoulder. Once in a while, one of them would say something – about Fred, she assumed – and the other would crack a forced smile.

Her heart contracted slightly at the thought of Fred. It was so weird seeing one without the other, and now...George would always be alone.

_No_, she thought. _We'll be there for George_. But deep inside, she knew this could not happen. They could not all throw their lives into helping George and forget to live. Fred would never forgive them if they forgot to live their own lives.

Fred would never forgive them if they cried at his funeral, either. She smiled at that. _I promise you, Fred, I won't cry at your funeral_.

Bill, Charlie and her father were presumably talking to the other survivors of the Battle of Hogwarts. She knew they'd probably re-write all the history books to cover Harry's life and this final battle. This was definitely history being made, something no historian would forget or miss out on. She also knew the reporters – and in particular, Rita Skeeter – would love to have an interview with Harry, Ron and Hermione. Especially Harry.

She sighed, and smiled to herself. _Of course_ her mind would eventually come back to Harry. It always did.

Where could she even begin to start when it came to Harry James Potter? Everyone knew the story, everyone was familiar with the legend, but she was one of the lucky ones who _really_ knew the real Harry Potter.

Her smile grows wider as she thinks of the jokes Fred and George would have made if she had said that out loud. And if Fred was physically, there, obviously...

And since she knew Harry so well – from years of observations, months of comfort and, unfortunately, only a month of being his girlfriend – she knew he'd be too tired to blame himself for the deaths of those who had died, especially Fred. She didn't feel as if she had to confront him and make him explain why she was left behind; she knew that conversation would come up soon enough. She didn't feel hurt or betrayed by his solemn 'no' when she had been begging to join the fighting, neither did she doubt that it was him who had walked past her as she comforted the poor dying girl. She knew that, if he wanted to tell her, he would tell her. She would let him come to her.

Without thinking too much, she stood up.

"Be right back, Mum," she said. "Just want to go talk to some people."

Her mum nodded in an understanding way that comforted her, and she walked away from her family and wandered over to where Neville was sitting with Hannah.

"You guys ok?" she asked as she placed both hands on their shoulders. "Good job fighting, by the way."

Neville blushed under the praise, but managed to say, "Yeah, we're good. We'll be alright, won't we?"

She laughed. It sounded wrong, and very off, but it was still a laugh. "We will. What about you, Hannah?"

Hannah looked up at her and smiled. "We'll live, I guess. They're having a memorial when they fix up the castle, someone said."

"Good," Ginny nodded. "People need to know the real story before the history books screw everything up."

The couple laughed – for they were truly a couple now. Ginny remembered the countless conversations she and Neville had had throughout the year. The majority had been about Harry and Dumbledore's Army, granted, but once she got him to admit he liked Hannah, he'd been prone to bringing her up. Very often.

She scanned the room quickly and found someone else to talk to. "I'll see you guys later," she said, leaving them and crossing the room

"Hello, Ginny," Luna said as Ginny sat down next to the blonde girl. "I'm sorry about your brother, Fred. He was very funny. I liked him. How are you?"

Ginny cracked a smile. "He _was_ funny, wasn't he? We're all going to be ok now, aren't we?"

Luna nodded. "Oh, yes. We'll be alright, eventually. Unless a swarm of Wrackspurts attack. Daddy's been monitoring a large flock of them, and he's sure they'll rebel like we did once. But they can't kill you – so yes, we _will_ be alright."

_Same old Luna_, Ginny thought to herself when something Luna said struck her.

"_We'll be alright."_ She's heard that phrase three times in the last half an hour. Would they really be 'alright'? Ginny was many things, but she was not stupid – she knew they would not 'alright' for a long time. The memorial Hannah had mentioned would be a messy affair – she had promised herself she wouldn't cry at Fred's funeral, but it wouldn't be right to hide her tears for Tonks, Remus and Colin. She had made no such promise to them, and she didn't intend to. She supposed that the memorial would act like a communal funeral for everyone to share their grief and their stories. Then the families would do what they wished with the bodies of their loved ones. She knew Harry would be invited to each and every one of them and she knew he'd be obligated to go to all of them.

She said goodbye to Luna and went to go talk to some of the others she'd seen before: Seamus and Dean; the Patil twins and Lavender; Hagrid; Cho and Michael (albeit grudgingly, she felt it would only be polite to talk to them); Bill, Charlie and her dad, who she had caught up to; Lee Jordan, Angelina Johnson, Alicia Spinnet, Katie Bell and Oliver Wood, who were yet to approach George; Mrs Longbottom; and finally, Professor McGonagall.

"You've been very strong, Miss Weasley," McGonagall said as Ginny started to walk away. The blush formed on her face before she could stop herself. She smiled at her professor before she noticed that the Great Hall was much emptier. Before, there had been hundreds of people; now, there were 10-20 people at each table.

"Where'd everyone go?" she wondered aloud.

"They have gone to tidy up, I believe," McGonagall responded. "There is still much that needs to be done before Hogwarts can open again."

She nodded in assessment before leaving the Great Hall. McGonagall had said that she had been strong...she didn't feel very strong. She felt tired and breathless and absolutely exhausted. If anything, she felt bloody _pathetic_. She felt like she hadn't slept in days, and she wanted nothing more than to collapse in her four-poster bed in Gryffindor Tower. If it was still standing.

Btu her feet didn't take her to Gryffindor Tower. Her feet took her to a deserted corridor on the second floor. The place was so deserted there was absolutely nothing to clean up. Not a single scratch on the walls.

Without thinking, she pushed the door to the girl's bathroom open. For the first time she'd been in here, it was empty – she supposed Moaning Myrtle would be surveying the damage and whining.

She walked right into the bathroom and right up to the taps, fingering one of them softly. She ran her hand over the tap and the sink. For her, this is where her _real_ journey with Tom Riddle began.

The memories of her disastrous first year suddenly came flooding to her, and she watched her reflection in the cracked mirror as a tear slid down her pale white face.

For the first time, in a long time, Ginny Weasley let herself cry.

* * *

It was several hours later that Ginny finally made it back to the Great Hall. She could not remember the last time she had cried that much for that long. Ginny Weasley didn't cry. But even Ginny Weasley got tired of being strong.

After Moaning Myrtle's bathroom, she went to inspect her beloved Gryffindor Tower, to make sure it was still standing. She'd been standing in the same spot Harry had kissed her for half an hour, not moving, before she walked up to the girl's dormitory.

Not a single dust particle had been stirred during the intense hours of the Battle of Hogwarts. She ran her hand over her bed, her bedside table, her clothes that were still in her chest of drawers, her Hogwarts robes, the books she had chosen to leave behind...she was amazed that Gryffindor Tower had remained as untouched as it appeared.

She was shaken out of her stupor when she heard someone call her name.

"Ginny?"

She whipped around, drawing her wand instinctively, tucking it away when she saw a fellow sixth-year, Jessica Horwitt.

"They've just pulled us out of evacuation – what are you doing here?" Jess laughed.

Ginny strode over to where Jess was standing and hugged her fiercely. Jess laughed again.

"I missed you too, silly. Now, where the hell have you been? Your family are looking everywhere for you!"

"Oh, shit," Ginny cursed softly. "I'll bet Mum's going insane."

"Almost tore the door off every bloody room," Jess said. "Go, before she blasts the painting apart."

Ginny laughed with her dorm mate before running down the stairs and out of the common room.

As she slowed to a walk, she thought about how so much had happened in the last 12 hours. She thought about Fred, and Colin, and Tonks and Remus. She thought about Harry, as she always did, and how all this would affect him. She thought about Hermione and Ron, and how they had finally confessed their obvious love. She thought about what McGonagall had said, that much had to be done before Hogwarts could re-open.

"Only the start of the beginning," she said to herself before striding into the Great Hall.

**review please :)**


	2. Chapter 1: Coming Home

**Ginny Weasley and the Seventh Year.**

**Summary: Ginny's sixth year was one she would rather forget. But, as life goes on, Ginny learns how to grow stronger, fall in love, pass her NEWTs and succeed in life.**

**A/N: SO SORRY IT TOOK SO LONG. I really am. I wouldn't be surprised if everyone deserted me, I really wouldn't. My most sincere apologies. First I went away, then I had school, then I had camp for 3 days, then I had surf life saving (which is a big thing in Australia) then I had to start writing my study notes for exams, then I had my exams, then I had all this family crap to deal with then I had surf life saving exam then I had to deal with all the Christmas stuff to do then I went away and I've got about a million more things I have to do for school which sucks because I'm on summer holiday. I'm so very sorry.**

**Disclaimer: Everything you recognise is, quite obviously, not mine.**

**Chapter 1: Coming Home**

It was a month and a few days after that day at Hogwarts that Ginny Weasley found herself sitting in a compartment on the train all by herself. To be fair, the train hadn't left Hogsmeade station left, and she was saving the seats for her friends who had come down for breakfast when she was leaving for the train, but it felt weird sitting by herself. She hadn't been alone on the train since her very first train ride in first year. So much had happened since then...

Her mind wandered from her life at Hogwarts to the memorial the school had hosted 2 weeks ago. Kingsley had been there, as Interim Minister for Magic, and reporters had been there to document the experience, and survivors and family members of lost loved ones had been there.

And the Golden Trio had been there, too. Harry had written a speech – downplaying himself, of course, saying it was mostly _luck_ and _fortunate circumstances_ and _coincidence_ and how much help his friends had given him – and Ron and Hermione had written one telling it like it was. She'd cracked a smile when she saw Harry squirming in his seat, uncomfortable with the limelight being put all on him.

They'd built a beautiful marble obelisk a couple of yards from Dumbledore's grave. On 3 of the sides were the names of the people who had died in the battle, engraved in calligraphic print. On the other side was a message, also engraved in calligraphy:

_On May 2__nd__, 1998, _

_55 valiant souls lost their lives fighting against Lord Voldemort on the ground of Hogwarts._

_Their memory will live on eternally,_

_As we, who remain, remember them._

_Lest We Forget._

She remembered the enormous amount of effort she'd put in to stop herself from crying. She remembered how that failed miserably, and how fast the tears were falling when they started talking about Fred, Tonks, Remus and Colin. _Poor Colin._ Colin had been one of her first friends at Hogwarts. They'd met by way of the Chamber, since Colin had been Petrified and she had been..._captured_.

She remembered how much McGonagall had cried that day over who were mostly ex-students of hers and her Gryffindors. She had no idea that her Transfiguration professor cared so strongly about her pupils. She knew that there was a soft spot in McGonagall's heart for all Gryffindors, but when she heard her teacher cry out at the sight of Harry's supposed dead body...even now she had to hold back a shudder at the memory. She had never dreamed of something that sounded so _defeated_, so _broken_, until Harry's name was ripped from her when she'd seen him for herself. Professor McGonagall had been a constant to her, a pillar of strength when all hope seemed lost...and to see her look so crushed was something she'd never be able to forget.

She remembered seeing Ron and Hermione, crying silently together, Hermione clasping Ron's hand so tightly she was afraid Ron's hand might fall off. She smirked to herself at the thought of her brother and the girl she considered her sister. Their relationship was, simply put, complicated. Hermione had told her that, during the first month of their first year, she'd regarded Ron and Harry of nothing short of an acquaintance (more 'nuisance' on Ron's part, the older girl had admitted, giggling). Then when they'd saved her from the troll on Hallowe'en, they'd become friends. Like her and Colin, they'd bonded after a life-threatening experience. But, unlike her and Colin, Ron and Hermione rowed like the world was ending over the most trivial things. Unlike her and Colin, Harry was always caught in the middle between his 2 best friends shouting at the top of their voices at each other. Unlike her and Colin, Ron and Hermione got together. Unlike her and Colin, both of them made it out of the war alive. But, then again, Ginny had never thought of Colin romantically. It felt like incest to her when people asked her if she was dating Colin. She'd stiffen, laugh, and reply that Colin was her best guy friend, not her boyfriend.

She remembered how outraged Hermione had been when Harry commented that he noticed Dobby's name wasn't engraved on the obelisk. At the time, she'd had trouble hiding her laughter. But now that she was looking back on it, Hermione's heart was really in the right place. Hermione had mentioned briefly that Dobby had died saving them from Malfoy Manor. She remembered the tears welling up her eyes when Hermione had told her this. Out of the original Harry Potter Fan Club, she was the only one left. Both Colin and Dobby had gone, and she was the last one.

She remembered how hard her mother had cried when they read Fred's name. No parent should have to face the horrifying truth and guilt of burying their child, their own flesh and blood. To her, that seemed immoral, wrong, a sin against nature. Every child deserved the chance to live, and Fred was more of a child than she was. He deserved happiness and family and love and friends who wanted to support him. But he was _dead_ – she flinched when she thought this – and nobody knew what dead people felt. Oh, sure, they were once human and breathing and, well, _alive_, but nobody knew what dead people thought. Or felt. It wasn't exactly a very _advanced_ study.

She remembered the lost and confused faces of the Malfoys. Memories of their unwillingness to fight and determination to stay in their little trio flooded her brain as she remembered the Malfoys. They had been rather sadistic in the beginning – she couldn't say the same for Narcissa Malfoy, who she had never met and probably never would, but she felt absolutely certain about Lucius and Draco – but in the end, they had shown their true colours. It had been all about _family pride_ and _upholding pure-blood tradition_ and pretty much being a snob. She would not deny that – the Malfoys were stuck-up, up-tight snobs who looked down on absolutely everyone who they considered wasn't what they called a 'proper' pure-blood or anything close to a pure-blood. Draco had been particularly nasty during all their Hogwarts years to all of them. He hated Harry for many reasons, but it was all fuelled by one thing that was plainly obvious – jealousy. Draco Malfoy was jealous of the attention and skill and popularity of Harry Potter. It was a fact of life. Hermione was a Muggle-born – self-explanatory in itself, despite her obvious good looks and intelligence. And Ron was – well, he was being _Ron_. He was jealous of Draco's money and good looks and confidence, and Ron was a blood traitor in Draco Malfoy's eyes. You were either a proud pure-blood, or you were scum.

She remembered how she had been the last one to leave the ceremony. She'd been sitting in her chair for half an hour after everyone had left. She was sure someone had seen her, but it had been a communal day of mourning. It wouldn't look so out of place that someone would come up to her and ask her what was wrong. After all, she had lost a brother and several good friends. It would be natural to mourn her brother's death.

No, she'd been thinking of someone else. She laughed bitterly to herself when she thought his name. _Harry Potter_. Of course she was thinking about him. Her crush on him had not exactly been very private and smooth – it had been embarrassingly public and awkwardly uncomfortable for everyone. The school had never let her live it down to such an extent that it was entirely forgotten. Her friends, even now, still teased her about it light-heartedly.

She'd been thinking about how, despite the circumstances, he'd looked so unnaturally gorgeous that morning, with his gloriously black hair windswept like he'd just jumped out of bed; his green eyes not quite that beautiful emerald green they normally were but were on the way to becoming; his gaze powerful and annoyingly attention-holding; his face flushing a soft pink when Ron and Hermione had praised him so openly. She had memorised his every action for every occasion – now that she had seen him at a wedding, a funeral, a battle, a date and a memorial.

The compartment door opened, and she jumped up, drawing her wand.

"Oh, are you defending yourself against the Mulgawumps?" came the floaty voice of Luna Lovegood. "How clever of you – I'd pull my wand out, but I had to hide it in my trunk from the Woozies."

"Why are we drawing our wands?" came the voice of Neville, who appeared a second later holding Hannah's hand. She noticed as his eyes darted to the wand she was holding in her hand. "Should I be worried?

Ginny sighed, smiled, and put her wand away, sitting back down. "Just defending myself against the Mulgawumps."

Neville smiled, understanding what she was saying. "Good to know we can count on you, Ginny."

Ginny noticed the momentary look of confusion on Hannah's face before Neville whispered something briefly in her ear. She smiled too, finally understanding.

"Plans for the holiday, Luna?" Ginny asked.

"Oh, yes," Luna replied excitedly. "I'm going away to South America with Daddy, then when I graduate we'll go back again. We're going to meet up with a friend of his, Dimitri Scamander, and he's going to help us look for the Hoobler fish."

"Scamander? Any relation to Newt Scamander, by any chance?" Hannah asked.

"Dimitri is Newt Scamander's son," Luna said proudly. "And Rolf is Dimitri's son."

"Rolf?" Ginny asked, smirking. "Who's Rolf, Luna?"

For the first time in her life, Ginny saw Luna Lovegood flush pink at the sound of his name. Luna had never been embarrassed by anything. "He's Dimitri's son, I told you," she replied. "And I've been writing to him for a month now. Daddy brought Dimitri and Rolf to the memorial with him, and I met Rolf there."

"So all four of you are going off to South America? Lucky girl," Hannah remarked. "I'll be in England all holiday, looking for a job so I don't go broke. What about you, Ginny?"

"Personally, I think I'll win the family bet on when Ron will pop the question to Hermione," she laughed. "Which will be before New Year's. Then a very overdue and hopefully very long conversation with Hermione…then I'll hop back on the train September first. It'll be as boring as it always is," she concluded.

"And Harry?" Hannah asked.

Ginny sighed, and forced herself a small smile.

"I don't know," she said softly. "Maybe this summer, maybe next."

There was a brief silence where Ginny looked up at Neville. "What about you, Neville? You're being very quiet."

Neville had been looking out the window when she said this, and when he looked at her she saw his eyes shining.

"I'll be visiting my parents with Gran," he said proudly. "And I'll tell them the good news."

Ginny watched as Hannah slid her hand into one of Neville's and squeeze it comfortingly. He turned to look at Hannah as she gave him a smile.

"They'll be happy together," Luna whispered in her ear. "The Gimbleflies told me."

The rest of the train ride was spent in mostly silence. Everyone was too distracted and too caught up by the school year that had just ended to pay much attention to everyone else's obliviousness. Once or twice, Ginny looked up to see Hannah and Neville whispering softly to each other, and she sighed inwardly before looking back out the window. It had been a long time since someone had looked at her with that loving, adoring look so had so often seen on Ron in the company of Hermione. She tried not to think of her best friend and brother's other best friend, and instead focussed on her disastrous relationships prior to Harry.

Both Michael and Dean had that adoring sort of look in the early stages of the relationship – _very_ early, in Michael's case. But Michael couldn't understand why she needed a best friend like Hermione _and_ a boyfriend. He couldn't understand how she could place so much faith in Harry, and why she could calmly accept Harry's story about Cedric's death without question and debate. He couldn't understand that she could be friends with her brother and not want to beat him up all the time. He couldn't understand anything that was mildly important to her – her loyalty to Gryffindor, her compassion for her friends, her pride in her family, and her faith in Harry Potter. She wanted someone who was mature enough to understand those parts of her. And Michael didn't understand. Especially her loyalty to Gryffindor.

Dean…well, Dean understood _most_ things about her, but he couldn't understand why she didn't want someone who would look after her and make sure she was well-fed and well cared for and in good hands. In the beginning, she felt touched that someone cared that much about her. But as the months drew on, it passed beyond the point of irritation, and it had annoyed her ever since. He had insisted on pulling her chair out for her – every day – and 'helping' her through the portrait hole, which was more like pushing her every single time. Most of the time, it made her question her relationship with him. But then he'd draw a beautiful picture of her or pull out some horribly corny line that would make her push his faults to the back of her head. She couldn't help but to compare Dean to Harry that year, almost always in Harry's favour, especially when Harry started to show some interest in her. Dean made her feel claustrophobic, all the time, and Harry always let her go do her thing when she wanted to. Dean may have been nice to look at, but Harry was_ hot_ and _buff_ – something she had been constantly reminded of by the giggling girls in the bathroom. At the time, she had liked Dean very much – but her heart had always belonged to Harry.

She was shaken out of her reverie by Luna.

"She's been attacked by the Mulgawumps – they're attracted to bright colours, and Ginny's hair is bright red."

"Who's been attacked?" she asked, furrowing her brow.

"Told you she fought them, Luna," Neville smiled, and Ginny smiled.

"Come on, Ginny, we're at the station," said Hannah, pulling her trunk off the rack above her seat and pulling off her Hogwarts robes to reveal Muggle clothing underneath. Ginny smiled and started pulling off her own robes, with Muggle clothing underneath like Hannah. Luna had already taken off her robes, and was adjusting a silver spiral necklace.

"It's a charmed necklace, to keep away the Woozies," she said seriously. "It will stop them from stealing my wand and my dreams at night."

Hannah gave Ginny a look that clearly said 'Is she for real?'. Ginny smirked and nodded her head once, and Hannah broke out into a smile.

When the train had come to a full stop and the doors had opened, Platform 9 and three-quarters was a sea of blonde, brown and the odd blue hair, all piling out in an attempt to reach their parents and go home for the summer holidays. There was none of the usual panic Ginny normally felt at the end of another school year. Normally, she wouldn't be alone, and while she was always the first to reach her parents, she was all alone this time, and walked to where her parents had been meeting their children since Bill's first year.

Sure enough, she could spot the bright red hair that indicated a Weasley, and her mind jumped to Ron.

When they were younger, Ron had been her best friend. He would defend her when the twins attacked her, even if she sometimes attacked him in her joint pranks with the twins. He had never picked on her directly when they were young, and she confided everything in him. He had been a little sceptical when Ginny had been adamant that she would one day marry Harry Potter, but he had accepted it nonetheless. Of course, all that went out the window when he came back from Hogwarts. It was like that for all her brothers – they had somehow changed during the school year. Bill paid more attention to her; Charlie locked himself in his room to write letters to his girlfriend; Percy started strutting around with self-importance; Fred and George started using magic – real magic – to fuel their pranks; and Ron started treating her like the dirt on his shoes. After her first year...well, she had a legitimate reason for changing. She'd almost died, and she laughed at the thought of one of her brothers almost dying in their first year without her knowing.

She was brought out of these thoughts by the feel of her mother's arms around her in her famous bone-crushing hugs.

"Welcome home, Ginny, dear," her mother said, pulling away and eyeing her carefully. "How have you been?"

She shrugged. "Alright, I guess."

Next in line was her father. She had always seen him as some eternal tower of strength, and had never openly defied him. But when she saw him after the Battle, she had discovered some newfound appreciation for him. It was hard, trying to stand tall with all the pride and dignity you'd like to have when, inside, you wanted nothing more than to curl up somewhere and just cry. She knew that feeling personally, and she had seen in Harry more than enough times, but her father had seemed so strong, so completely balanced, that it had come as a bit of a shock.

Nevertheless, she hugged her Dad the same way she had hugged her Mum.

"Good to have you home, Ginny," he said as he pulled away.

"Good to be home," she replied as she noticed, for the first time, that they were not alone. Ron had come to see her come into the station, hand-in-hand with none other than Hermione Granger. She raised her eyebrow at her best friend, who was beaming, before Hermione's brown, bushy hair clouded her vision.

"You're telling me everything later," she whispered in Hermione's ear before Hermione released her, still smiling.

"How's everything at Hogwarts?" Hermione asked as Ron came over to hug Ginny.

"As amazing as it always is at the end of the year," she replied with a smile as Ron released her. "You can't really expect anything else."

Hermione laughed. "I guess not," she smirked. "I guess I'll see for myself next term."

"Next term?" she looked around wildly, expecting someone to elaborate, a smile growing on her face. "What – you're coming back?"

Hermione, still beaming like the world was hers for the taking, nodded. Ginny let out a squeal and threw her arms around her friend again. "It'll be so much fun, Mione, you and me – what about you, Ron?" she asked her brother. "You coming back to Hogwarts with us?"

"Yes and no," he said slowly. "I'm working in the shop with George. It's not really a one-man kind of job, and since Fred – "

He stopped, and turned to look at their parents, who were deep in conversation about Mr Weasley's new addition to his plug and battery collections, before continuing.

"Since Fred's...you know...and I need the gold, they're making a lot of money."

"That sounds more like a 'no' than a 'yes and no' to me," Ginny remarked.

"That was the no part. We bought a place in Hogsmeade, so you lot at the school can still buy their stuff – the tenants died...recently."

She took 'recently' to mean 'in battle on May the second of this year', and smiled inwardly when Ron said '_their_ stuff'.

"So I'll see you on Hogsmeade weekends, and whenever I can get up to the school," Ron concluded.

"And what about Harry?" Ginny asked, as they watched Mr and Mrs Weasley walk through the barrier between platform nine-and-three-quarters and Kings Cross.

"How would you expect him to be after something like this?" Hermione asked as they followed through the barrier. "He's moping."

"Of course he is – convinced it's his fault?" Ginny asked.

"Right in one," Ron said, taking control of Ginny's trolley. "If I knew where he was, I'd go down there and get him out of it."

"It's not healthy," Hermione agreed, when Ginny stopped walking.

"You don't know where he is?" she asked softly.

Hermione swapped a look with Ron, and sighed. "It's not as simple as that. It's true – we _don't_ know where he is, but not because we haven't tried looking."

"Where have you checked?"

"Everywhere – Grimmauld Place, Shell Cottage, Tonk's parents' place, the woods around the Burrow, the Lovegood's, we even went to Godric's Hollow and Privet Drive – "

"He hated the Muggles, Hermione."

"But it wouldn't have hurt to check, though, would it? He doesn't want to be found, or he'd've come to us."

Ginny fell silent at this thought. He didn't want to be found? Of course he wanted to be found, Hermione was being silly, they just needed to try a bit harder and expand their searches...Harry most certainly wanted to be found, to see if they cared enough to try and find him. She, Ginny Weasley, certainly cared enough to go to the ends of the earth if necessary, because there was no way that Harry Potter didn't want to be found by his best friends and his...

Well, what relation did she have to him? She definitely didn't want to be remembered as the ex-girlfriend, and she wasn't as close to him as Ron and Hermione were so she couldn't be his other best friend, and plain 'friend' sounded stupid, and she wasn't going to kid herself and say 'future wife' or 'soul mate' or something equally ridiculous, because anything could happen, and she wasn't going to say 'friend with benefits' or 'close friend', because the former sounded degrading and the latter made her sound like she was just some homework buddy or something similarly stupid. Out of all of them, she liked the sound of 'best friend' the best, even if it wasn't entirely accurate.

_To hell with not being as close as Ron and Hermione_, she thought. _Neither of them went out with Harry, I think I qualify for best friend._

"What was that, Ginny?" Hermione asked. Ginny turned to find Hermione staring at her, confused.

"What was what?"

"You just said something, something about qualifying for best friend."

"I did?" _Shit, I said that out loud?_

"Yeah...are you ok?" she asked softly, grabbing Ginny's arm and holding her back as Ron unloaded Ginny's trunk into the back of the car Mr Weasley had, no doubt, borrowed from the Ministry.

Ginny sighed, pushing her hair out of her face. "We all will be, eventually, I guess."

"That's not what I asked, Ginny."

"I know," Ginny whispered after a moment's silence. "It's just...it's hard, you know? Everything was so much better last year, and so much has changed, and I _know_ I'll never get used to seeing a hole in George's head or Fred missing...it was just a bit much today, leaving Hogwarts behind."

"I know what you mean," Hermione said as she climbed into the back seat of the car. "It'll take some getting used to, I guess, but at least it's over. It could have been much worse."

_Yes_, Ginny thought to herself as her father neatly drove them away from Kings Cross. _It could have been a lot worse. Ron could have died. Hermione could have died. I could have died._

_Harry could have died._

These thoughts plagued her, right until Mr Weasley had pulled into the lane that lead to the Burrow. She had been, in fact, sitting in the car by herself for a good five minutes before she made any movement to get out, and that was only to take off her seat belt. She hadn't yet been subject to the horrible, nerve-wracking, soul-tearing, heart-ripping, pitiful sobs of grief some of the students had been through. She wasn't waiting for it to happen, or impatient that it hadn't come yet – it simply meant then when it did happen, it would claw at her very being and explode out of her without planning, and she wouldn't be able to stop.

After pondering this for ten or so minutes, she finally climbed out of the car and walked slowly towards the house. The lights in the house were on, and her mother's cooking wafted past her as she opened the door. Her mother was busy in the kitchen, happily chatting away to her father, who was sitting at the table and reading that day's _Evening Prophet_, and Percy, who was saying very little, but smiling. She smiled at him, and gave him a half-wave, which he reciprocated and stared out the window. She ventured into the sitting room, where Charlie and George were playing a game of Exploding Snap, and roaring with laughter when it blew up in their faces, and Ron and Hermione were sitting very close together in one of the arm chairs, talking very softly and sometimes not talking, but staring at each other with love shining from their eyes. Bill was, no doubt, with Fleur at Shell Cottage, and Fred was d–

She squeezed her eyes shut, mentally stopping herself from continuing that sentence. Fred was in a place none of them could reach him and, she hoped, safe from pain.

Her feet carried her up the stairs to the first landing, where she pushed the door to her room open. As she expected, there was another bed in there – Hermione's bed, obviously. She'd expected an inch of dist covering absolutely everything, but it seems that her Mum had done some cleaning some time between the history-making Final Battle and picking her up from Kings Cross. Knowing her Mum as well as she did, it was probably done right after they'd come from Hogwarts and moved their stuff from Great-Aunt Muriel's to the Burrow. She remembered when they'd been forced to help clean out Grimmauld Place during the summer before her fourth year, and she remembered how ferociously her Mum had attacked the grime and mess that had littered Grimmauld Place for so long.

She sat at the edge of her bed, and stared around her room. Even in her absence, it felt somewhat warm and inviting – no doubt some household-y spell her Mum had performed that she was yet to learn. Perhaps during Charms this year, they'd be taught household spells they'd most probably need. At the thought of school, her mind towards Defence Against the Dark Arts – who, in Merlin's name, would be willing enough to accept that position now? Or perhaps there would be more applicants in light of the recent Battle – people who had finally come to their senses and realised that protection against the Dark Arts was not something to be taken lightly or casually pushed aside; that the Dark Arts would never truly be vanquished, merely constantly kept at bay. Maybe they'd have a permanent teacher, for the first time in a long time – or would they continually ask people, even _force_ them, into teaching Defense Against the Dark Arts, knowing full well they'd be gone at the end of the year?

Her mind then crossed to the other professors: Professor McGonagall, who most probably would happily take back her post of Headmistress and continue on as Transfiguration professor and Head of Gryffindor House; Professor Flitwick, who would stay on as Charms professor and Head of Ravenclaw House; Professor Sprout, who would remain Herbology professor and Head of Hufflepuff; Professor Slughorn, who, albeit reluctantly, nevertheless agreed to continue being Potions professor and Head of Slytherin; Professor Trelawney and the centaur Firenze, who would both stay on as Divination professors, despite the former's constant arguing; Madams Pince and Pomfrey, who would both stay on as the librarian and nurse respectively; and Hagrid, who was more than willing to stay on as Gamekeeper and Care of Magical Creatures Professor.

She lay down on her bed on her side, and pulled her pillow from under her head, hugging it fiercely as if it would sprout arms and hug her back. How on earth would she be able to complete her schooling after such a fail of a year? More importantly – how, in Merlin's name, would the fifth and seventh years fare in their much hated NEWTs and OWLs, after such a disastrous year and a catastrophic ending? How would the teachers feel comfortable teaching in their classroom in the following school year with the knowledge that total chaos had reigned in their classroom, and that someone may have died, and lain dead in the same spot they were standing in? How would the students – especially the new first years and those who had been evacuated– react to the idea that hundreds of people had died within the very walls they walked? How would the survivors – which, now she thought of it, was only her, as everyone else had recently graduated or was already over age – feel content with the knowledge that they may have – and probably did – kill someone in the place that had become like a second home to them since age 11? She knew she felt a little tug every time she had the sudden thought that maybe she had killed somebody that night.

So it was a good thing Hermione was coming with her next term. Being the only survivor still in school would really take a toll on her – mentally.

Thinking of Hermione and the new school year that would start, as it always did, on September 1st, she thought of who would be the new Heads. She almost laughed out loud at the idea of anyone other than Hermione being Head Girl, _that_ much was a given. No, it was the title of Head Boy that really had her stumped. All the boys in her year were idiots, she knew. None of them were role-model material, had exceptional academic skills or amazing Quidditch prowess; none of them could analyse a situation neutrally, always taking a side; none of them had the maturity to handle docking points where necessary and handing out detentions when the situation called for it. No, it looked like Hermione would be up in the Head's dorm all by herself. _No,_ Ginny thought fiercely. _She won't be alone – I don't care what anyone says, I'm moving into the Head dorm with her when she gets the letter telling her there's no Head Boy. Merlin knows we could both use the company._

In a daze, she got up off her bed and pulled her Muggle clothes off, putting her pyjamas on and thinking to herself, _Where is Harry now?_

Meanwhile, outside, under the shade of the trees, a lone figure watched as the light to her room turned off. A chuckle escaped the figure's mouth as he imagined her trying to stumble around in the dark for her bed. He took a step forward, as if to walk closer to the house, but stepped back after a moments thought. Taking another second to cast a glance at the window he'd been watching for the past hour, the figure turned and Disapparated in an unusually quiet manner, leaving only the faint ghost of his brilliant green eyes and his famous lightning scar.

* * *

**A/N: '**_**Lest We Forget**_**' is an Australian thing we say at Anzac Day (being April 25) after the Ode of Remembrance (which is saying how we will remember the people who died in the wars) and I'm not quite sure what the English equivalent is or if there is one, so I'm going with this unless someone tells me and I can change it :)**

**And as for the 55 people thing, if you look right at the end of DH it says "Fred, Tonks, Lupin, Colin Creevey and fifty other who had died fighting him." Then Snape turned out to be good so I'm going with 55 unless someone else has another number. **

**I am not, in any way, shape or form, implying that Ginny is weak, because Ginny is one of my favourite characters and I personally think she's amazing. In fact I admire her strength. Not that I would know, but I imagine being in the middle of the Final Battle that would alter the course of the entire world as we know it would be something huge to deal with. I am simply implying that she had her personal losses and was subject to some pretty rough shit during her sixth year, and anyone who could make it out alive would certainly deserve a big shiny plaque.**

**And, incidentally, no pun intended when I say 'soul-tearing' ;)**

**Muchos graçias to everyone who reviewed last chapter, it made me wonderfully happy :)**

**Merry Christmas and Happy New Year :) reviews, please**


	3. Chapter 2: Saying Goodbye

**Ginny Weasley and the Seventh Year.**

**Summary: Ginny's sixth year was one she would rather forget. But, as life goes on, Ginny learns how to grow stronger, fall in love, pass her NEWTs and succeed in life.**

**A/N: About time, right? I'm sorry, I really am. But – more excuses, yes – I had a very busy first term starting three different projects, then in the holidays I will still be doing one massive project, then a hundred bajillion more during second term then I go away to Europe for 19 days for a school history tour and I'm not allowed to bring my laptop which sucks because I know I will have heaps of inspiration whilst abroad, then third term should hopefully be fairly quiet and I should be more regular in updating around then. So that's...2-4 months. Trust me, you can't be more annoyed about this than I am.**

**I also blame it on several bouts of writer's block and plain old laziness. But I will work around these :)**

**Disclaimer: I wish I was the ridiculously talented J.K. Rowling, but I'm not, and I have to live with that every day *sob*. But everything that seems relatively new is most certainly mine :)**

**Chapter 1: Saying Goodbye**

It was very late in the morning when Ginny finally woke up hungry, as she'd gone to bed without dinner the night before. The sleep had done wonders for her, though – she hadn't been sleeping very well after The Battle, and while she had been getting enough sleep during the last month of school, she felt refreshed and re-energized.

She'd spent the entire night tossing and turning, before settling on her back. She turned her head to look at the figure of the sleeping girl next to her, and sat up when she realised that Hermione would not be awake for a while. The older girl had a smile on her face, reminding Ginny of the unnatural amount of smiling she'd done at the station yesterday, hand-in-hand with her brother –

Ginny jumped up from her bed and started searching for some clothes to change into, running into the bathroom and leaving feeling in a daze, but fully awake. She flew down the stairs, tripped over someone's shirt and bolted into her room – where Hermione was, somehow, still asleep, still smiling. Ginny walked over to her bed and threw her pyjamas on top of the covers, and paused when she heard Hermione say, "Ron."

Ginny was about to laugh, and reply with something she hoped was both witty and clever, like "Love _has_ made you blind, Mione, I'm Ginny," when she turned around and saw Hermione was still asleep.

"Ron," she said softly again, and turned around.

Ginny smiled to herself, and sat down cross-legged on her bed, facing Hermione. She was, in all honesty, very happy for her best friend and her brother. They both deserved a bit of happiness after the experiences they had shared with each other and Harry, and if they found it and so much more in each other, who was she to stop them from being perfectly happy with their wonderful new lives to lead? Yes, she was definitely happy _for_ them – how could she not be? She had won 43 Galleons, 39 Sickles and 182 Knuts from various students who had all been foolish enough to bet against her and her reasoning ("It's Ron, so the timing will be _exceptionally_ awkward, and it's Hermione, so it'll be because he said something that was unexpected, but in her favour...probably in the heat of a battle or something.") in the running bet on when Ron and Hermione would get together, with Ron confirming their relationship in their speech at the memorial – but it didn't stop her from being jealous, and slightly angry.

Who were they to be happy when she was wallowing around in misery, and close to breaking? How dare they put themselves first, when Harry needed to be found? What sort of people were they, to get together and be in love and whatever else went on when they were alone, when so many people were dead and many more were grieving? If being in love made them so selfish, she wasn't sure she'd want to be in the same kind of love they were in. And besides, why were _they_ the ones who had the perfect ending? Why couldn't it be her and Harry? Ron and Hermione had bickered for their entire friendship, and had snogged in the middle of a battle when people were dying left, right and centre. Her and Harry had faced a horrible ordeal during his second year, her first; had become friends over the years, fighting and defending each other against physical, magical and verbal onslaught; romantically united under the gaze of the entire Gryffindor House; tragically separated and... missing their fairy tale ending. If anyone deserved the fairy tale ending, it was her and Harry. They had the orientation, the complications and the climax – all they needed was a resolution.

It was at this point that Hermione started to stir, and Ginny sat up, her back straighter than she ever remembered. Hermione, facing away from Ginny, turned on her back to stretch her arms, still smiling.

"Christ, Ginny!" she exclaimed, clearly startled as she turned to face Ginny, obviously expecting her to be lying down, sleeping – not eagerly sitting on her bed with a look on her face like she'd found a million Galleons.

Ginny's expression changed, confused, and she cocked her head to the side. "Who?"

"Never mind," Hermione mumbled, rubbing her eyes and sitting up. "What on earth are you doing anyway? You almost gave me a heart attack."

"Sorry about that," Ginny smirked. "But I have questions, and you have answers."

Hermione laughed. "Yes; no; five drops of belladonna; thirteen years; 1876 – "

"Not _those_ sorts of answers, you idiot," Ginny laughed, rolling her eyes. "You know what I mean."

"Ask me a question first," Hermione replied, imitating Ginny's position on her own bed and hugging her pillow. "I can't give you any answers without questions."

"True," Ginny smiled. "Ok – you and my brother."

"That's not a question," Hermione laughed. "It's a statement."

"It's a statement that wants an explanation – an explanation you have, incidentally."

"I specifically said questions."

Ginny glared at her friend. "Ok – what's going on with you and my brother?"

Hermione smiled. "_That's_ a question."

"Don't be funny, Hermione, answer the question."

Hermione's grew. "We're together."

"Yeah, no shit," Ginny said sarcastically, rolling her eyes. "Seriously, though, elaborate. You're making jokes...and _smiling all the bloody time_...what gives?"

Hermione looked down and fiddled with her fingers. "He told me he loves me," she said softly.

Ginny almost exploded. "What?"

"He told me he loves me," she said again. "And he'll propose once he gets enough money for the ring." She looked up, tears shinning in her eyes. "I've never been happier, Ginny, I love him so much."

Ginny was at a loss for words. "Hermione, I-I'm so happy for you."

The older girl laughed and screamed into her pillow. "I feel like I'm flying, Ginny, it's so amazing...I want to scream it from the Astronomy Tower and let everyone in the world know that I'm in love with Ronald Weasley."

_More money for me_, Ginny thought to herself, before saying, "I'm sure you'll have your chance next term."

Hermione, still grinning like a mad woman, could only nod happily.

"Now – not to purposely bring the happiness levels down a million points – how's everything on the Harry front?"

The effect of using Harry's name was instantaneous – Hermione's smile slid from her face faster than a sneaked in bottle of Mrs Scower's All-Purpose Magical Mess Remover cleaned a Potions fight for detention.

"Something's changed," she replied.

"Really?" Ginny asked, hopeful. She had not expected something to change so quickly after she came home, especially not overnight.

"There's wards up around here, just to detect whether or not he comes by," Hermione said. "They don't stop him from seeing the house, or stop him from getting in, they just let us know when he comes within a couple of hundred yards of the house. And last night...they were breached."

Ginny's eyes widened in comprehension. "He was here?"

"Yes, but it was only for a second or so – by the time Charlie and George went out to check, the light in the sitting room was off."

"What light?"

"It's not the same sort of ward to warn people when people intrude their property, so there isn't a siren – there's just a light that comes on. Bill's organised it so that the ward's connected to the clock in the sitting room, and it'll flash only for Harry, and Ron and I were talking about him and we all must have looked at the clock at the same time, because it flashed for a second and Charlie and George jumped up to check."

"Is it supposed to flash once or stay on?"

"Stay on, I think – so Ron Floo-called Bill and Charlie and George checked around the house, but they couldn't find him."

"You don't think he detected them, do you?" Ginny asked, slightly worried. If Harry had, indeed, detected the wards and taken them the wrong way, to mean they were intended to block him out, he could withdraw from them forever.

"It's not like he detected them...more like, he stepped inside the wards and stepped out again after a second. Bill said the light was supposed to flash on and off if we suspected Harry detected the wards – at least we know the wards work."

"So you still don't know where he is?"

Hermione gave her a reproachful look. "I'll tell you the same thing I told you yesterday: we _have_ looked everywhere we could think of, even the places that seemed least likely, but we're sure he doesn't want to be found, or he'd've come to us."

"You don't know that," Ginny counter-argued. "Wouldn't it be just like Harry to hide away for a bit to see if his friends cared enough about him to be looking in the right places?"

Hermione sighed. "That's true. It _would_ be like Harry to do something like that...but if we haven't been looking in the right places, where have we missed? Where are we not looking for him?"

There was a minute's silence, where both girls were pondering the mystery location of their friend. The silence was broken by Ginny, who asked, "Mione?"

"Mmm?"

"Well...I can't believe I'm asking this...but you never...er...that is, you never really...um...you never _actually_ – "

"Spit it out, Ginny."

"You never...um..._liked_ Harry, did you?"

Hermione looked at her for at least thirty seconds, before throwing her head back and laughing.

"Me and Harry?" she said in between laughs. "Oh please...you're killing me..."

"I'll take that as a no, then?" laughed Ginny.

Hermione couldn't respond, and instead nodded, still laughing hysterically. "That reminds me of that stupid _Prophet_ article Rite wrote in fourth year!" Ginny, remembering the article in question, snorted, and both girls dissolved into laughter and giggles.

Once their laughter had subdued, Hermione gave a last laugh and said, "To answer your question, Ginny, I have never liked Harry like _that_, and I hope I never will if you're the competition."

Ginny laughed. "Good," she said, "Because I really don't want to hurt you."

They shared another laugh, before Ginny said, "How's...how's it been at home? With your parents?"

While Hermione had refused to tell her why she, Harry and Ron had disappeared for a whole year, she had told Ginny at the memorial that she had altered her parents memories and sent them to Australia, and that she planned on setting out to retrieve them a week after the memorial.

Hermione sighed. "It's fine...well, no, it's not fine, you know, it is what it is, but..." she paused, squeezing her eyes as if to stop the tears from falling. "Gods, Ginny...it was so hard."

Ginny immediately stood up and moved to Hermione's bed, wrapping an arm around her shoulders.

"What happened?" she asked softly.

"It was so hard, Ginny, they didn't recognise me...I had to get there by Muggle transport, and I knocked on the door, and Mum answered, and she...she didn't know who I was, and she asked what I wanted, and I just said I had to speak urgently to her and her husband, and she wanted to know why, and I wanted to fix her memory right then, just so she would understand, but I couldn't...so I told her I worked for the government, and I needed to speak to her and her husband, so she let me in and she called Dad down and the three of us were just awkwardly sitting there, so I pulled out my wand and reversed their memories. And that's," she stopped again. "That's when it went downhill."

"What do you mean?" Ginny asked.

"Well, they were happy enough at the start, but then Mum got annoyed...she asked if it was really necessary to move countries, and when I said that not even Muggle security systems would have protected them, she said she found that hard to believe. Then she said that nothing could get through Muggle security systems, that magic was stupid, that she was disappointed in me for getting involved in magic and being 'hoodwinked into believing magic could fix everything', and that I _at least_ should have told them what I was doing before altering their memories. Then she told me to get out," Hermione sniffled.

_But they came back...didn't they?_ Ginny thought to herself. But, sensing that Hermione didn't want to be interrupted, she kept her silence.

"Then I told Mum I wasn't going anywhere until she let me explain...I always thought I'd have more of a problem with Dad, I never thought I'd have to deal with Mum like this...I transfigured her into a hamster."

"You never!" Ginny exclaimed, smiling in spite of the situation.

Hermione choked out a laugh. "And I put a Silencing Charm on her and told her I wouldn't change her back until she listened to me. That's when I got around to telling them everything, and I changed Mum back and took the Charm off her." She gave a short laugh in spite of herself. "Suffice it to say Dad did the rest of the talking. They put the house up for sale the next day, and came back to England within in a month. But Mum," she sighed. "Mum doesn't do a lot of talking when I'm around. I think she thinks that if she says much when I'm around, she'll say something to upset me and I'll turn her into a hamster again."

"You did what you had to do to make her understand," Ginny said reassuringly.

Hermione gave a small smile. "That's what I'm hoping she'll see," she said in a small voice.

Looking at her friend, who was always so strong, feeling small and insecure, Ginny hugged her, trying to convey a message of friendship and strength for the girl who had always been like an older sister to her.

It was at this point that Hermione gave a final sniffle, announced she was fine and swept out of the room. Ginny inspected the box of tissues in her hand and, noting how much lighter the box felt due to the abundance of tissues that littered her bed, set the box down and left her room.

It was a while later when she saw Hermione again, but the bushy-haired girl was sitting with Ron in the backyard, their heads together deep in conversation. Wanting to leave them be, she sought out her mother.

Mrs. Weasley was in the kitchen, standing with her wand at a pot, muttering spells under her breath to increase the temperature. Ginny smiled at how familiar this image was, and how much she had missed it when they were in hiding. She had missed the hustle and bustle of life at the Burrow, and how any privacy you wanted was there for about a second before a loud and tall redheaded brother would walk into the room. She missed seeing her mother shouting at someone tall and redheaded, sometimes black-haired; she missed watching her dad tinkering with Muggle objects in the shed that would blow up not long after; she missed the shouting of Ron and Hermione, and she suspected that as a couple, there would be even more fights between them; she missed hearing the bangs and the noises and feeling the ground shaking as something from Fred and George's room exploded.

_But,_ she thought_, it's just George's room now_.

The funeral for Fred had been organised to be on June 23rd, a few weeks away, and George had all but banned anyone else from choosing the date. He claimed the responsibility to choose the date and pick out the headstone for his dead twin fell to no one but himself, and Ginny didn't have the heart to disagree with him. Not when he looked so lost and alone.

Her Mum had claimed to be the chief organiser of the event, and Ginny didn't have the heart do deny her that right. No parent, Ginny believed, should have to bury their own child. There was just something sincerely _wrong_ about it; something that went against nature. Ginny just thanked her lucky stars that she had lost only one brother – she was still trying to get over the loss of Harry.

It was at this point that Mrs. Weasley turned around, seeing her daughter.

"Oh, Ginny dear, could you come help me please? I'm making roast lamb and I need you to make the gravy."

Ginny smiled. "Of course, Mum."

A few hours later, when everyone was congregated around the kitchen table, Ginny said to Bill, "Hermione says Harry was sort of here last night."

The effect of this once sentence on everyone present was amazing – the entire table fell silent, their eyes either on Bill, who was growing nervous, or Ginny, who was looking innocent with her eyes wide open and looking curious.

And suddenly, several people started talking at the same time.

"That is not appropriate dinner talk, Ginny – "

"Per'aps later, after ze meal – "

"Harry was here?"

"Hermione, why'd you tell her?"

"So the wards work?"

Bill sighed. "Yes, the wards work. The light flashed on for a second last night, and Ron Flooed me while Charlie and George went to check the perimeter. We suspect he was here for a moment before he left," he informed the table. His statements were met with silence, until Mrs. Weasley said very loudly, "Seconds, anyone?"

"Yes, please," said George and Ron at the same time, hurriedly scooping more mashed potatoes and roast lamb onto their plates.

The subject of Harry suddenly became a very delicate one that no one but Hermione wanted to discuss with her, she found out over the next few days, and even Hermione had her limits. Her Mum was prone to abruptly changing the subject anytime she mentioned Harry; her Dad dropped whatever he was holding and stammered about not knowing anything; Bill and Fleur were never home for her to ask about him, and whenever she did they'd wave her away; Charlie would stare at her wordlessly and walk away; Percy never mentioned Harry if he could help it; George stopped what he was doing for a moment, then carried on as if nothing ever happened; and Ron pointedly ignored her every time she said Harry's name.

"I don't understand," she complained to Hermione two weeks later when they were lying in bed. "No one wants to talk about him."

"I don't understand it, either," Hermione said, flipping the page to the book she was reading. "Ron's the biggest surprise."

"Is it weird that I just want to know what's going on?"

"I think every was expecting you to act a bit differently."

"How was I supposed to act?"

"Angry...hurt...cheated...betrayed...and others among them."

But I _am_ angry," Ginny argued. "And hurt and cheated and betrayed and all those others among them. But I want to find him first so that I can tell him that myself."

Hermione stopped reading for a second, then turned to look at her. "You're very good at hiding your anger. You look like you're taking it very calmly and everyone's just a bit confused as to why."

"What's there to be confused about?" Ginny mused. "There's no point of feeling angry and hurt and all those other ones if it isn't helping to find him."

And to that, Hermione had nothing to say.

The weeks rolled lazily on by until, towards the end of June, her Mum approached her when she had been reading in bed.

"You all set for tomorrow, dear?"

"Tomorrow?" Ginny asked, confused, before it hit her. Tomorrow was June 23. "Fred's funeral."

"Know what you need to do?"

"Yes, Mum."

Her Mum briefly touched Ginny's face, smiled, and walked away. Ginny sighed, and leaned back to hit her head on the headboard, the book she had borrowed from Hermione sitting forgotten on her bedside table. How could she have forgotten her own brother's funeral? Had she really been so caught up in wondering where the hell Harry was that she forgot to mourn Fred? Tears welled in her eyes at the thought of what Fred might say if he was here.

"_Ahh, Gin-Gin, don't worry your pretty little head. I might have to disinherit you as my favourite sister and protégée, but someone had to worry about him, I'm glad it's you."_

Or would he have said something like that? Merlin, she didn't know anymore. It would have been something he would have said, wouldn't it? Would it?

Did she even know her own brother anymore?

It was a sombre Weasley family that woke up the next morning, but none were quite as sombre as Ginny was. After crying herself to sleep, she had woken up at dawn groggy and exceptionally emotional. Crying, she dug through the contents of her desk to find the speech she had written for the funeral; crying, she had changed out of her pyjamas and into her black dress robes; crying, she had eaten her breakfast before anyone had woken up; crying, she had visited the place within the Burrow's backyard where Fred would be put to rest; crying, she sat through the service, read her speech, shovelled a spadeful of dirt into the grave.

Crying, she said goodbye to her brother.

She only vaguely heard the speech that her parents and siblings gave. The only thing on her mind the whole day was her grief for her lost brother. So lost was she in her thoughts that she ignored the sharp intake of breath that the congregation took as someone approached the front of the group; she took no notice as it registered to her that her mother had collapsed into another onset of tears; she never saw Ron and Hermione get up and walk towards the podium. It was only when the new member cleared their throat did her head snap up to meet their bright emerald eyes, and his name was whispered throughout the crowd.

"Harry Potter."

**You know what to do. Read and review.**

**Muchos graçias.**


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